


Flight

by kristsune



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, he really loves to fly okay, intro to my newest son, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 14:06:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11163420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: NJ prefers to be in the air than on the ground.





	Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing i needed to write for my new pilot son. A couple references if you were curious. His hair looks a like [ this ](https://68.media.tumblr.com/c83f7b82b1c18a78072cddc1cb9fa8fc/tumblr_inline_nsdcszcur91r4qz7l_540.jpg) but minus the beard. His geometric tattoos are patterned like[ this. ](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/post/161285798369/potterymakinginfo-precision-masking-from)

Not Jesse - NJ - may have been named for something he wasn’t, but he knew what he  _ was _ : he was meant to fly.

Ever since he was placed in his first flight simulator as a cadet, stuck in that cramped space, with all the toggles and switches and small colorful lights, he  _ knew _ that’s where he was meant to be. Knew that was what he was meant to do. 

He excelled in all of his flight training. He could operate almost any vehicle, but  _ really _ took to any that got him in the air. 

It was all he ever wanted, to be high above the ground, soaring over any obstacles. 

He often wondered what it would be like, to fly free of any Larty, or bomber, or fighter. To fly with the wind in his long blonde hair, lifting him up higher and higher. What it would be like to have flesh and blood wings of his own to carry him around the planet. 

So he did the next best thing. As soon as he could, he got his wings tattooed onto his back. Small geometric patterns almost looking like feathers from far away. He got them in white to stand out on his tanned skin, and to separate them from his other similarly patterned tattoos. 

It wasn’t that NJ didn’t like to fly the way he did. He  _ loved _ it. Flying a fighter with strong metal wings was as close as he was going to get to having his own. Didn’t matter if he was speeding through space or atmo, the sleek, fast fighter was life. When he was in the air, he felt like he was  _ home _ .


End file.
